Mahou Shoujo Ikusei Keikaku - Volume 14 - Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

ALL SPLIT UP EVERYWHERE

  Dreamy Chelsea

All the vegetation around the main building and annexes had been removed, making a sort of yard. And now, all the guests who’d been invited to the island had congregated there. Even the visibly weakened old man wouldn’t submit to their urging to go rest inside—partly because they were still waiting for the magical girls who had gone to hear Maiya’s voice, and also because it seemed like he would be helpless on his own. What seemed more likely was that they wanted to ensure he could safely escape if something attacked. Chelsea did think he was being pretty stubborn, though. There were plenty of other reasons, too, and so Chelsea had to make an announcement in front of everyone.

It was starting to get dark, and the light of the main building at their backs cast all the faces in front of her in shadow. She already didn’t want to tell them what she was about to say, but the backlighting gave everything even more of a grim vibe.

Pastel Mary was gone.

Chelsea had checked all the empty rooms, opened up all the wooden boxes stacked in the closet, and checked the contents, even opening up the lid of the toilet in the lavatory to look inside. She’d looked in the bathroom, too, checking behind the shower curtains, to no avail. Chelsea had even pulled books from the shelf, but no hidden rooms had appeared. And on top of that, the grayfruit the two of them had picked together and packed into a box had vanished. When they’d learned of the effects of the fruit, they’d immediately been ordered to gather the ones that grew around the main building—that had been the first job since coming to this island that Chelsea hadn’t dragged her heels on. Without grayfruit, they’d be in all sorts of trouble, after all.

Everyone looked quite unhappy to hear Chelsea’s announcement. She never wanted to trouble them with it, either, but the facts were the facts. Not telling them wouldn’t change things.

Chelsea felt as if she were standing on top of clouds. Though she was clearly present, she felt far away. It was as if she were looking in through a TV monitor from somewhere else. Not being able to find Mary, the box of the grayfruit they’d gathered being missing—it felt like none of it was happening in real life. Maybe that was why she didn’t feel angry or sad. She was weirdly calm, but her mind was full of doubt.

However, not everyone there was a flighty character like Chelsea. Agri erupted in rage at the news. She yelled and screamed, shaking Shepherdspie by the collar. “Look, you!” she spat. “What’s the meaning of this?!” She threw in a, “Seriously! Bullshit! Damn it!” Spittle flew out of her mouth, her face contorting terribly as the vibrant beauty of a young woman became something dreadful directed at Shepherdspie. Her expressions of rage felt like they had “Take that! And that!” packed into them as mental punches.

Shepherdspie was wavering about. Chelsea felt sorry for him. He had no clue what was going on, unable to even make a decent excuse for his behavior. That made Chelsea angry—but not with him. She felt indignant toward the mages who were yelling at him and shoving responsibility for every single thing on him.

Before she could even think about it, she lost her cool. “Hey, how are you making everything Mr. Pie’s fault?!” Chelsea leaped out in front of Shepherdspie and spread her arms wide.

Agri flinched, then immediately glared at Chelsea. “Listen, I don’t know if you’re his housekeeper or his mistress or what, but right now isn’t the time for that. Drop the show of loyalty to your man and butt out.”

Chelsea really didn’t get what that first part was about, but she did get what “butt out” meant, and it sent her rage skyrocketing.

Chelsea was quite furious.

“Chelsea isn’t gonna butt out of it! ’Cause Dreamy Chelsea is a friend to all people in trouble!”

She would never say something like that as Chie Yumeno. Chie clammed up when someone was angry with her. She thought it was rude to cut in and that you should wait for the fires to cool. She would vent her feelings or wait for time to pass, and all these little things would lessen the tone of her anger bit by bit, until finally by dinnertime, she’d had conversations like, “Oh well, watch out next time.” “I will, I’m sorry.”

But Dreamy Chelsea was different. When a friend was being unfairly accused, she had to protect them, or how could she be a magical girl?

Agri spat with irritation, “Oh, I see! If you’re a friend to all people in trouble, then why don’t you fix the gates or defeat the killer?! We’re really in trouble here, right this very moment!”

“Not all of that is Mr. Pie’s fault! Chelsea’s trying to say there’s no reason for anyone to be yelling at him!”

“Don’t change the subject!”

“You’re the one who changed the subject!”

Navi stood up and laid a hand on Agri’s shoulder. “Hey, leave it at that. More importantly—”

“You’re so obnoxious. Shut up, old man,” Agri cut him off with just one remark, and he dejectedly went back to where he’d come from and sat down.

Instead, the horse—Clantail—approached, hooves clopping. “Pardon,” she said as calmly as if she hadn’t at all been listening to the yelling match just now.

Agri tilted her head all the way over and glared at her, not in the least trying to hide her irritation—like Clantail was being an absolutely provoking, massive hassle. “What?”

“I’m going to go gather fruit.”

“Wait, hold on.” Mana reached out and waved her hands side to side. “It’s too dangerous. You should wait for Marguerite and the others, at least.”

“But—”

Someone coughed. The coughing went on for a long time before coming to a hoarse stop. Chelsea’s maternal grandfather had coughed like this. He’d made his visitors smile by saying, “I’d like to have a big steak once I get out of the hospital,” but he’d never left the hospital in the end.

Clantail rushed to the source of the coughing and stroked his back. The old mage still had his handkerchief pressed against his mouth in distress, and when he removed it, the white handkerchief was stained red. Clantail stood, bowed, and then ran to the annex without another word.

The annex? Why?

When Clantail returned, she was carrying a large tube of rolled-up cloth. “I’m borrowing this,” she said to Shepherdspie, and before he could say if that was all right or not, she strode out. Her equine lower body was enveloped in light, and a moment later, it had become that of a leopard. Her hooves became sharp claws, and her tail bounced with supple grace. Her overall frame was shorter, and her stance was even lower.

Her unexpected transformation surprised Chelsea, and there were cries of surprise from the others, too. Mana took a step forward, surely to stop her, but she moved too slowly. She seemed like she was hesitating. Maybe she wasn’t sure if she should stop Clantail from trying to go into the forest to save the ailing Ragi. Chelsea could understand that feeling. As Mana was hesitating, Clantail sped up, and then even the end of her tail was out of sight.

“Should I bring her back?” 7753 timidly asked, and Mana flatly shook her head. “But does she even know where the grayfruit grow?”

“That…should be all right.” Everyone there but Ragi, who seemed on the verge of collapse, looked at Shepherdspie. His shoulders trembled, and he looked around, then cleared his throat. “It’s not a rare fruit on this island. They can be found surprisingly easily if you look by rivers and forests or by the paths. But still, a single tree doesn’t bear much fruit. Gathering a decent amount should take some time… Oh yes, having a map of the island should help.”

“Wait, so then was what Clantail just took…” 7753 trailed off.

“That would be the tapestry…I think.”

I see, Chelsea thought. Now that they pointed it out, there had been a tapestry with an aerial view of the island on the wall in one room. Using that to search would be far better than looking haphazardly.

“Can you tell that from just that, though?” 7753 asked.

“More precisely, I think that’s what is drawn on the tapestry, so it’s probably better than nothing… And as I said before, they grow all over the island, so they shouldn’t be that difficult to find. It’s just that we already gathered most of the fruit around the main building, so she’d have to travel a bit…”

She’s actually smart, for someone who’s half-animal, Chelsea thought, impressed. But Mana was angry, saying it was selfish of her to run off at a time like this, and Agri was angry, saying it was because there’d been a thief, and Mana said angrily yeah but still, while Agri angrily said that prioritizing securing fruit was pragmatic as they butted heads. None of the other mages and magical girls attempted to interrupt or intervene in their dispute. With the ire no longer directed at him, Shepherdspie breathed a sigh of relief. Isn’t that nice, Mr. Pie? Chelsea thought.

After yelling at Shepherdspie and Chelsea, next, Agri was going at it with Mana. It was like she didn’t even see Chelsea anymore. Maybe she was fine with anyone, as long as she got to yell.

Chelsea had heard from her mother that mages were smart. Now that she was actually associating with them, it made her tilt her head dubiously. None of them seemed very smart.

A situation where one person has killed another was too far from reality; it was like a TV drama, manga, movie, anime, or light novel—it was some kind of fiction. It didn’t feel at all like it was happening to her. And Ragi being on the verge of collapse made her think, Aw, that sucks.

If anything, her attention was on the direction Clantail had run. That had been very courageous and cool. Ragi was the type of man Chelsea wouldn’t want living in her neighborhood—he was basically a nasty, stubborn old man, the kind of person Chelsea would find obnoxious. But Clantail had risked her life for him anyway by going into the forest to search for the grayfruit.

She was doing everything she could for the sake of her friends and allies. That was very like a magical girl.

Clantail was a magical girl, but her aesthetic wasn’t to Chelsea’s preference. If a magical girl like Clantail appeared in anime, Chelsea might post a comment on social media like, I don’t think that kind of weird attempt at a new design is great for a magical girl. With the times we’re in, what people want out of magical girls is the classic look, not reinventing the wheel. But still, despite that, Chelsea’s preferences aside, she was a magical girl. When her employer was in trouble, she leaped into the forest to look for the grayfruit, heedless of danger to her own life.

Yes, that was obviously how a magical girl should be.

One gust of wind, then a second stroked the ground. Chelsea reflexively hugged herself. Realizing that wasn’t a very magical-girl-like gesture, she immediately unfolded her arms again. When she happened to bring her palm up to look at it, it was trembling slightly.

She stared at the sky. The sun was about to set beyond the forest.

Chelsea looked at Agri and Mana. She could hear what they were talking about more clearly than before. They weren’t just “yelling at each other.” Agri was yelling angrily that Mary had stolen the fruit and disappeared, wailing that this was a question of Shepherdspie’s responsibility, and she was even saying the string of incidents might have been caused by Mary.

Chelsea slowly closed her trembling hands and squeezed them. Her long magical-girl nails, neatly groomed and painted in vivid red, bit into her palms, and it hurt. It hurt, but that pain brought Chelsea clearly back to the real world.

Chelsea wasn’t the kind of person who would stay silent when nasty things were said about her friends. And Chelsea also wouldn’t let Clantail get the juiciest moments.

“You’re wrong.” She said it out loud. Mana, Agri, and all the other mages looked toward Chelsea all at once.

Chelsea puffed out her chest and looked them all right back in the eyes. “You’re wrong! May-May doesn’t steal!”

Her mother had said, “You dream too much when it comes to magical girls.” She said that magical girls live in reality, too, so they’re tainted by reality. But if Chelsea was to agree, then Dreamy Chelsea wouldn’t be Dreamy Chelsea. Even if her dinner was taken away, even if her monthly allowance was decreased, this was the one thing she would never back down on.

“Don’t talk about May-May like she’s a thief!”

Putting it into words made her mind clear, and she knew what she had to do. Since coming to the island, Mary had been more friendly to her than anyone. She was a friend. She wasn’t a thief at all. There was absolutely no way she could be the one behind everything. Chelsea was a magical girl, and magical girls believed in their friends. She would always believe in them, no matter what. In other words, Mary hadn’t betrayed her, and she hadn’t stolen anything. She hadn’t disappeared to escape the consequences of her actions. That meant that Mary had been taken away by someone or that she’d been forced to flee, and she was in a very dangerous situation.

Chelsea stuck a thumb up and jabbed it at herself. This was an expression of her determination and a display of her will. This was saying that she was a magical girl.

“I’m going to go save May-May.”

There were a lot of people here. They were all together. It wasn’t that dangerous here. It was different with Mary. She could be captured by someone. She might be hiding and crying. She might be about to be killed. Chelsea was a magical girl and her friend, so that meant she was going to save Mary.

Turning her attention back to each one of the faces that watched her with surprise, Chelsea felt magical-girl power swelling up inside her. She’d been snacking on the grayfruit a lot when Shepherdspie hadn’t been watching—they were good—so she would probably last longer than the other magical girls.

Shepherdspie flapped around, waving both arms wide side to side. “S-stop this!”

“I don’t wanna!”

Mana stepped forward, extending a hand to Chelsea. “I’m telling you, it’s too dangerous!”

“I know that!” Nimbly avoiding Mana’s hand, Chelsea kicked off the trunk of a tree, then landed on her toes on one of the countless tree roots that creeped along the ground. “Leave it to Dreamy Chelsea!”

She posed, and then with the dumbfounded expressions of every face present seeing her off, she raced away.

Chelsea was absolutely going to save Pastel Mary. She’d made up her mind.

  Miss Marguerite

Marguerite looked up at the main building. The lights were on in the upper floors. Was that an attempt to make things just slightly brighter? But the atmosphere here was dark.

The information Maiya’s body had brought them had been a little positive, that “the culprit was not someone Maiya knew,” but it was fair to point out that was just reinforcing the information gained from 7753’s goggles. It didn’t feel like it had any effects such as improving the atmosphere or morale or getting them all to work together. When the magical girls got back, they all ran to their own patrons, abandoning the others to make whispered reports.

Touta had done well. And Yol, who had been constantly crying before, had now cheered up enough to bite into the grayfruit that was offered to her. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were white, and it was difficult to say she was in good health, but still, she was managing to eat what she had to in order to live.

Marguerite was about to pet Touta’s head but stopped her hand right before she could. Treating him like a child wasn’t a good way to express her respect.

“…What’s wrong?” Touta asked.

“Oh, just that you’ve done well.” Marguerite patted his shoulder twice. Touta was looking up at her curiously—he seemed to be doing better than she’d thought. Marguerite massaged his shoulder with that hand, and Touta scowled like it hurt, so she withdrew her hand.

“Everyone just does whatever they want! Seriously! Agh!” Mana was in a huff.

Agri had her arms around Ren-Ren and Nephilia, and the three of them were talking about something in a huddle. Clarissa and Navi were the same. It was clear something had happened. And that something was nothing good.

Marguerite offered one of the grayfruit she carried in her right arm to Mana. “On the way back—”

Mana snatched the grayfruit away. She turned away from Marguerite and handed the fruit to 7753, then turned back to Marguerite with a slightly gentler expression than before.

Marguerite watched 7753 over Mana’s shoulder. She walked over to the old man, whose face was pale as a corpse, and said to him, “They picked up some grayfruit on the way back.”

Marguerite handed another to Mana, who gazed at it for a while before sweeping her eyes around the area. She was probably making sure there was enough to go around. She exhaled, then bit into it with a grimace. “Oh…thanks… In all seriousness, I really am grateful.”

“We just happened to find some,” Marguerite said. “We couldn’t take too much time, so we don’t have many.”

“Even if it’s not many, they’re in high demand right now.”

“What happened? There are fewer people here.”

“The fruit we picked is gone.”

“…How did something like that happen?”

“Pastel Mary disappeared.”

“She took them?”

“That was what we were discussing, but…” Mana’s expression soured further. It must have been a yelling match they were calling a discussion. “And then Dreamy Chelsea ran off.”

“Why?”

“She said Pastel Mary isn’t a thief, and someone must have kidnapped her, so she left to go save her.”

Marguerite put a hand to her temple. The headache was not her imagination. Who was it who had said that you had to be a little bit crazy in the head or you wouldn’t be able to do the job of a magical girl? “Nobody stopped her?”

“Nobody could.”

After all, it wouldn’t be fair to tell mages to stop a magical girl.

“…Where’s Clantail?” Marguerite asked.

Mana glanced behind her. 7753 was squatting by the old mage, helping him eat the fruit. The fruit did seem to be more or less going into Ragi’s mouth, but who knew if he was actually chewing it? When his hat started sliding down from his head, 7753’s arm snapped out to hold it down.

“The old man was coughing up blood,” Mana said. “I haven’t given him a proper examination, but I think he was close to his limits. He wasn’t going to last any longer without grayfruit, so Clantail went into the forest with the tapestry.”

That was a reckless thing to do, but it was at least more rational than Chelsea’s wild behavior.

Marguerite took a bite of a grayfruit. The flesh and juices mingled with her saliva to slide down her throat. It eased the hunger that she shouldn’t have been feeling, so long as she was in magical-girl form.

She couldn’t say it to Ragi, but the old man’s condition was now kind of like an indicator. When the mages had fallen unconscious and the magical girls’ transformations had come undone, Ragi had been the first to go. In other words, their transformations wouldn’t come undone until Ragi was down. That was the literal deadline. If the “enemy” attacked when they were human, they wouldn’t be able to fight back. They’d die, no doubt. They all understood that. That was why Agri, Navi, and all the magical girls were eating the grayfruit.

But…this is…

Marguerite hadn’t been precisely measuring the time, but hadn’t the interval gotten shorter, compared to the last time Ragi’s health had gotten worse and he’d had a grayfruit to recover? Had the grayfruit become less effective, or was the situation getting worse?

7753 stood up and headed to Rareko and Yol. Ragi must have gotten comfortable despite things as he was sitting up on his own, though he was leaning on his staff. Exhaustion was apparent on his face, and he also seemed mentally befuddled.

Marguerite tossed the last of the fruit on her palm into her mouth and swallowed it without hardly chewing it. She was disgusted about making a weakened old man their canary in the coal mine and irritated at having been forced to do that. Clantail was impulsive for being unable to stand by and dashing off into the forest, but she wasn’t wrong, as a magical girl.

Although Marguerite might silently condemn herself, she couldn’t abandon her post. Everyone was all off on their own groups around their mage clients, discussing. Even though they had to all come together, they weren’t coming together.

“Leaving aside the theory that Pastel Mary is the culprit, we should get more organized as a group,” said Marguerite.

“About that.” Mana sounded even more bitter. “I think we should find out what all the magical girls’ magics are, as well as the mages’ areas of specialization.”

They knew that nobody with them now had killed Maiya or destroyed the gate. In that case, it would be best to get a grasp on what the others could do in order to work together more effectively. This really should have been proposed earlier, when they’d had 7753 use her magic, but Mana hadn’t spoken up about it then.

Marguerite didn’t need to ask to figure out the reason why. Mana had kept 7753’s abilities a secret to investigate the others’ abilities privately. However, that scheme had fallen apart when Ragi had made 7753’s magic known to all of them, and now everybody knew that Mana had been able to order 7753 to do just that. It wouldn’t be strange for some to wonder, Did she actually try doing—? No, wait, she definitely did. Anyone with a bit of smarts would arrive at that thought.

Coming from a position where she had wronged them in a way made it unsurprisingly difficult for Mana to make this proposal. And on top of that, it seemed like she’d been arguing with someone while Marguerite had been gone. That would make it even more difficult for her to suggest learning more about one another’s abilities.

Marguerite withdrew her finger from her temple and touched it to the end of her chin.

She hadn’t come as a guest but as an accompanying magical girl, so it would be a bit presumptuous for her to make such a proposal. Depending on how it was taken, it could cause offense. In the Inspection Department, nobody would hold back over the difference between magical girl and mage, but this wasn’t the Inspection Department. There was Touta, but even if he was more or less an invited guest, the others would have realized by now that he couldn’t use magic. It would be odd if he had been pushing for this.

Perhaps a good compromise would be to go through Touta to ask Yol. Though she was young, she had a good character and family background. Even if she was immature, she had a strong presence. But Marguerite couldn’t impose further on a young girl who’d just been stricken with such a major emotional shock from Maiya’s—

“Ummm.”

Marguerite withdrew her finger from her chin and turned around. John Shepherdspie, his large frame scrunched up as much as possible, was standing there. Then she remembered: Oh, right, he’s here. He was far more suitable for the role than the very young Yol.

“What’s happened to Pastel Mary?” Shepherdspie asked. “Have you seen any trace of her in the forest, or…”

“Unfortunately…” Marguerite trailed off.

“I see…” He sighed deeply, not even trying to hide it, and bit into a grayfruit. He seemed highly anxious. Maybe he was suitable for the role, but Marguerite also wondered if she should be forcing him to shoulder any further burdens. Still, he was better than Yol, who’d been crying her eyes out over Maiya’s death.

Shepherdspie took his time swallowing. “Mm…right, and also about Maiya…”

“Yes?”

“Where did you bury her?”

Marguerite stared back at him. Shepherdspie flinched and thrust his hands in front of him. “Oh, I do believe that it’s most reasonable to return her to Miss Yol in the end, but if we’re going to do that, then we should know where the body is… I don’t mean anything badly at all by it.”

“Not at all… We’ve left the body as is.”

“A-ahhh, I see…is that the situation?” Shepherdspie backed down apologetically.

Marguerite stroked her face from top to bottom, returning it to what she figured was her original expression.

Burying the body. Ordinarily, of course that was what you would do. But none of the magical girls there had proposed burial. Marguerite hadn’t even thought about it. She did feel no small amount of grief for Maiya, but it still hadn’t even come to her mind. She wouldn’t consider digging a hole to bury a body when they might be attacked by an enemy at any moment. The most she’d been able to manage was picking up some supply resources as an afterthought, since they’d been growing on trees on the way back.

If you judged Shepherdspie to be maintaining a decent level of humanity, then Marguerite was on the abnormal side. She silently apologized for putting him lower on the priority ranking than Yol—not just that, she’d forgotten he even existed—and then looked at Mana beside her.

Mana must have picked up on what she was thinking, as she gave Marguerite a little nod, then bowed her head to Shepherdspie. “I’d like to make a request of you. May I?”

“What is it?” he replied, looking more confused than annoyed. But if they were going to ask someone, Shepherdspie was it.

Marguerite was about to explain her request when there was a sudden call of, “So hey,” making her turn around.

It was Agri. She held a half-eaten grayfruit in her right hand. Her left was free, index finger pointing at the grayfruit in Marguerite’s hands. After distributing one each to everyone, there were three left over—but put another way, there were only three left over. “Like, wouldn’t it be good to gather more? There’s totally not enough.”

“You got that right,” Navi replied with a nod, which Clarissa mimicked, albeit more rapidly. “I think it’d be a good idea to put together a team like before to go gather some.”

“Yeah, I agree. So…” Agri passed the grayfruit from her right hand to her left, then tossed it backward to Love Me Ren-Ren, who caught it in both hands. “I think the people gathering them should be the ones holding on to the inventory. How about that?”

Sweeping her gaze around to meet the eyes of each person there, she stood up straight and touched her right hand to her chest. “For instance, if we get attacked, us mages aren’t gonna be useful in a fight, whether we’re awake or not. But we’ll be in trouble if the magical girls can’t transform. So then we should prioritize the magical girls over the mages when distributing the fruit. Am I wrong?”

“Nah, nah.” Navi shook his head, and Clarissa shook hers, too. Her big catlike ears swayed side to side. “If a mage knows they’re gonna be useless, that’s fine. But listen, I’ll be useful. I think it’ll be bad for everyone if I can’t do my job when the time comes.”

“Huh? What?” Agri put a hand to her hip, bending at the waist to lean her face close to Navi. Navi didn’t back off, puffing out his chest, and the two of them glared at each other in those weird poses. “You’re telling us to treat you special ’cause you’re gonna be useful?”

“C’mon, lady. You’re the one planning to get a bigger share for yourself because you’re employing two magical girls.”

“What? That’s completely unjustified speculation. Just because you have nasty ideas like that, don’t assume others are the same.”

“But well, you know…” Navi’s gaze flicked elsewhere. He was looking at Ragi, sitting slumped. “If it were just about changing the distribution, that wouldn’t be a bad idea. But I think differentiating based on whether you’re a magical girl or a mage is unfair discrimination. If the standard is whether you’re useful or not, then, well. That’s not discrimination; that’s differentiation.”

Yol and Touta seemed confused. Rareko seemed entirely at a loss, looking alternately between the two mages. Shepherdspie was in a dither, Ren-Ren looked apologetic, and for some reason, Nephilia was the one person smirking in amusement. 7753 gave Mana a sidelong glance, cringing away like she was frightened. And then Mana—you didn’t even have to ask what sort of mood she was in. Deep lines furrowed between her eyes, and her teeth could be seen from the corners of her lips. She was mad about these two squabbling over trivialities in an attempt to gain even the slightest advantage. She was going to explode in under five seconds.

Marguerite was mysteriously coolheaded. She asked herself why but didn’t come up with an answer. Unable to work together in a situation that necessitated it, they were trying to cast off the weak and scrabbling for even the slightest personal benefit. This was just about as bad as you could get, in terms of true character being revealed in a crisis situation. Normally, Marguerite would become angry like Mana. But for some reason, she was coolheaded. There was something difficult to verbalize, something strange—

A voice came from above. “It’s here.”

She followed Mana’s gaze up to see a magical girl floating in the air—Tepsekemei, the one Marguerite didn’t really understand. That had clearly been her voice. But her face wasn’t pointed toward the two nastily bickering mages but the other way—toward the main building. She wasn’t actually looking at the main building; her face was just pointed in that direction. Her eyes appeared as if they were looking somewhere else beyond that.

“What’s wrong, Mei?” Mana asked.

Still with her face pointed to the main building, Tepsekemei muttered, “Pukin.”

Various emotions crossed Mana’s face. Confusion, loathing, surprise—what came out strongest was fear.

Marguerite narrowed her eyes. She knew the name Pukin. The name had come up a number of times in the documentation of the incident that had happened in B City. That was the magical girl who had caused Hana Gekokujou’s death. She’d been an incredibly powerful fighter, and even if you used all your fingers and toes, you wouldn’t have enough to count Pukin’s victims in just B City alone.

But Pukin was gone. It wasn’t even that she’d gone back to prison. She was dead.

Mana let out a shallow breath and inhaled again. She was nervous. “What…about Pukin?”

“It’s like her,” Tepsekemei said.

“Like her?”

“It’s like her. That’s what’s here.”

Marguerite opened her mouth to ask what Tepsekemei meant, but she didn’t say anything. She felt it.

It was there. Something was there.

Her heart was pounding hard. Marguerite drew her sword. She figured it was past the main building, between fifty and a hundred yards away. Even from that distance, it penetrated her with enough lethal intent to make her feel like she’d been attacked, and her body moved. A beat later, the ground rumbled. A piercing sound made everything tremble, and then trees flew up high in the air, along with massive clods of earth. Some hit the spire of the main building, crashing through the wall to destroy the tower. There were sparks and steam gushing up from behind the main building as hard as a geyser.

“The power generator is back there!” Shepherdspie called, and not even a split second later, the main building’s lights went out all at once.

Marguerite tried to go to Touta, but he wasn’t where he had just been a moment ago. Rareko was running into the forest. Yol was in her arms, and since Touta was firmly holding her hand, he was swept into the forest as well.

From the corner of her eyes, Marguerite saw Clarissa running off carrying something large. That was probably Navi. Shepherdspie was flopped on the ground behind her. Agri’s group was already gone.

The air felt tense now. It had become oppressive in a flash. It had sent people fleeing, but she couldn’t be sure that was true of everyone. In fact, some probably saw this as a good excuse to move onward independently. It was clear to anyone that there wasn’t enough grayfruit. They needed more of it faster and faster. Plus, the main building, which had been their base, was destroyed—and with it, their reason for staying in one place. On top of that, this had come right after that dispute that had clearly announced “we’re a disorderly rabble.” Anyone with common sense would be losing the will to cooperate.

And everyone had to have their own reasons, too. For Rareko, that would be cowardice or a sense of her duty to keep her master safe no matter what, now that Maiya was dead. Agri and Navi both wanted to be in charge. It was common for mages to want to stand above their peers, no matter what the occasion. Their motive would be the desire to keep others from controlling the situation and restricting their own behavior or because of something like, I don’t want any more to get seen through those goggles—Marguerite huffed to herself. This wasn’t what she should be thinking about in a dire situation like this.

With the rubble of the main building, clods of earth, and even trees dug up by the roots and man-size rocks raining down, Tepsekemei didn’t try to avoid any of it and took it all in the face, but everything passed through her body without causing a single wound. Marguerite didn’t use her sword, using only minimal movements of her body to evade the shrapnel-like flying objects. Though 7753 cried out ow, ow, she stood in front of Mana and Shepherdspie, hunched over with both arms as a shield, firmly guarding her upper body as she held her ground.

“Marguerite,” said a voice from behind the cloud of dust. “You’re not going to run?”

“What about you?” Marguerite asked. “You’re not going to run…Tepsekemei?”

“Mei is good at running, so Mei will stay till the end.”

“I see.”

“Mei got away from Archfiend Pam, too.”

“Oh my… That’s incredible.”

“I get lots of compliments.”

“You should write that on your résumé. A history of having been able to escape from the Archfiend alone would have you instantly welcomed into any department as an asset. Inspection in particular never has enough people…” Marguerite closed her mouth. The presence that she’d felt all this time beyond the main building, in the forest, wavered slightly. It didn’t seem like it was going to attack a couple of magical girls who were chatting and making themselves open for it in a deliberate sort of way. It wavered, and eventually faded, and disappeared. Marguerite remained on guard, counting until it felt like it had been a full five minutes, then finally sheathed her sword. She made the noise deliberately loud to show off that she had sheathed her weapon, but the presence still didn’t return.

She took her hat in hand. The inside edge was damp. When she touched her hand to her forehead, her bangs were stuck to her skin with sweat. Thick sweat also flowed down her back, toward her butt. 7753 let out an anxious, rattling breath and just about collapsed when Mana caught her.

Tepsekemei took a bite of the grayfruit in her right hand and stared at the fruit. “Is this congee with sweet potato?”

“Congee?” Marguerite repeated.

“Or a cucumber sandwich?”

Marguerite couldn’t understand what she was trying to say. She looked at 7753, but she was swaying and seemed on the verge of tears. She didn’t seem calm enough to translate. Marguerite closed one eye. She knew a lot of magical girls would repeat things or do things often that seemed very meaningful but were actually meaningless.

Marguerite didn’t respond to Tepsekemei’s question, asking back instead, “You said Pukin.”

“It was like Pukin,” Tepsekemei said.

“What do you mean?”

“Different from us.”

“…Do you mean not a magical girl?”

“Different from us.”

This made more sense than whatever she’d been saying about congee—since Marguerite had experienced the same thing. Marguerite had seen a variety of magical girls who were superior beings. They weren’t simply strong—there was something fundamentally different about them. Maybe the fitting description for them was “terrific.” She hadn’t actually seen this. She had just sensed its presence, but it had sent a shiver down her spine anyway. Maybe it was less that her body had moved before she could think and more that it had moved her.

Had that not been a magical girl? But it was difficult to imagine that it wasn’t. There were rocks, rubble, fallen trees, and clods of earth scattered all around, and the main building was half-destroyed. It was probably no exaggeration to say the other side of the building was a disaster. It had accomplished this much destruction and emitted that sinister aura to keep Marguerite frozen on the spot. Could anything but a magical girl do this…?

“Was Pukin…not a magical girl?” Marguerite asked.

“She was a magical girl. But she was different.”

Marguerite had heard that the old magical girls were made differently. Was that the difference between Neanderthals and Cro-Magnon, or was it as different as birds and reptiles?

“What do we do?” Mana asked as she lent a shoulder to 7753, who was staggering from having been struck by the things flying through the air—she seemed heavy, but it felt like it would be tactless to help.

“Go find those who have fled…,” Marguerite answered. “But first…”

“But first?”

“We need grayfruit.”

“Ahhh, yeah.”

Marguerite put her hat back on. The sweaty parts were cold in a moist way and felt gross. It would get colder at night, even on a southern isle. She looked up to see pale clouds above and a hazy moon behind them.

Though the bad situation could excuse them, these were not the most reliable allies, to scatter and run rather than stand and fight. Still, they had to have numbers, or things would get even worse. The enemy that had come to them was no ordinary opponent. It was a magical girl—no, a something—so strong that Marguerite understood how Maiya had been killed. Even knowing it was there, Marguerite’s legs hadn’t moved, and she’d just watched it go. She had no clue if they had any chance of winning.

She was worried about Touta, but on that front, she had no choice but to pin her hopes on Rareko. If there was one point where Rareko was superior to Maiya, it was that she could flee faster than anyone without a moment’s hesitation—in other words, she had no unnecessary pride. Marguerite prayed that even if she ran into the enemy somewhere, she would manage to get away.

Marguerite looked around the area, but Ragi was gone. Had a kind someone pulled him by the arm, or had he somehow managed to escape the scene of disaster? Marguerite scooped up the fallen Shepherdspie in her arms and slung him over her shoulder.

Seeing that, 7753 timidly asked, “Is he…okay?”

“…He doesn’t look injured,” Mana answered. According to her brief diagnosis, he had no injuries, so he must have passed out from the shock. However, Marguerite couldn’t determine yet whether that was fortunate.

Their plan was to search for grayfruit first, and so they decided to go to the place Marguerite’s party had found on their way back, where there had been some growing. There hadn’t been enough time before to harvest all of them. There should still have been a few left. With Tepsekemei in the lead, the party started walking.

Coming up behind Tepsekemei, Marguerite said, “Wait. Wait, Tepsekemei.”

“What is it, Marguerite?”

“It would help if you could choose a route I can actually follow.”

“Over the pond?”

“I can’t exactly walk on water.”

“Understood.”

Marguerite followed after Tepsekemei.

  Love Me Ren-Ren

Trickling between the trees was a creek narrow enough that even a five-year-old could step over it. Ren-Ren flew upstream. She followed the flow of the meandering creek, going up a cliff and through a culvert to its source. Eventually, she reached a large rock, and confirming that water oozing out at its foot was what made the creek, she breathed a deep sigh.

She’d come from the center of the island and was now pretty close to the eastern edge. The night had grown darker, too. She could hear insects buzzing in the thicket. That cry from the treetops had to be an owl.

Ren-Ren had a cabinet in her heart. She divided up all the humans, mages, and magical girls she’d ever met by type and tucked them into the drawers of her cabinet to pull out when necessary. No two magical girls were completely identical, but they would be similar in some way. Even with a magical girl she had never met before, she would respond to them based on the information in her drawers.

But some she couldn’t classify, like Tepsekemei, who lacked the intent to communicate her thoughts and feelings to others. And the thing they had just encountered—yes, though Ren-Ren hadn’t seen it directly, it felt as if they’d had some kind of encounter. Just remembering it started her trembling from the inside out, and she felt sick enough to bring her food up. She would have preferred not to remember. There had never been anyone else before who could make her feel that way, when she hadn’t even seen them.

Ren-Ren had met violent people. She’d met self-serving people. She’d met people who loved nothing more than disparaging others, and she’d met those who would feel pleasure to see someone else moaning in pain.

But she’d never met anyone like that.

“Ren-Ren. Hey, Ren-Ren.” Agri’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Ah, yes. What is it?”

“You’re squeezing too hard. If you squeeze me with your strength, you’re gonna break my little arms.”

“Sorry.”

“Uh-huh. Or, like, you can let me down already. Thanks.”

“Ahhh, right.” Ren-Ren gently let Agri down from her grasp. The sensation and warmth of the thighs she’d been supporting in her arms went away. Agri laid her back against a tree and inched her way upward, and once she was fully on her feet, she swung her arms around and stretched her back like she was doing morning calisthenics.

Ren-Ren let out a deep breath and looked at Nephilia. Nephilia was looking back at her, too.

“That…that thing just now—” Nephilia interrupted herself with a shake of her head, the gesture and her unusually serious expression showing a refusal to speak.

Ren-Ren gave a little nod and turned to Agri. “Um, about that thing just now.”

“Yeah?”

“That was, um, what Maiya…”

“I think that’s what attacked her.”

“Of course…”

“Can you beat it, Ren-Ren?”

Ren-Ren hadn’t exactly been able to measure it. And even if she could ascertain its strength, she doubted she could win against it. Even if she said she was giving up because it was so much stronger, she didn’t know how much stronger it was. Perhaps it was ten times stronger or a hundred times. Ren-Ren saw the regular students of the Archfiend Cram School, as well as the graduates and their leader, all as one category of “incredibly strong people.” The only ones able to differentiate the stronger and weaker of them were those in that group.

“Not possible?” Agri asked.

“Well, um, ah…I’ll do my best,” Ren-Ren replied.

“Yeah, that’s a good answer. And, Nephy? Can you do it?”

“…No way.”

“Yeah, that’s a good answer, too.” Agri smiled unsuitably brightly for the situation. The hysterical woman who had been snapping at people over every little thing in front of the main building was gone.

“Um,” Ren-Ren began.

“What?”

“We left all our things behind, though…”

“It’s fine; it wasn’t anything much anyway. And actually, I wouldn’t have wanted you to go get my stuff then.”

“Right.”

“This is all we need at the moment.” Agri took a grayfruit in hand and opened her mouth wide. When she was about to bite into it, she stopped, moving just her eyes to look at Ren-Ren, then Nephilia in turn. She closed her mouth without taking a bite, wiped the fruit on her sleeve, and gave it to Ren-Ren, then pulled out another to toss to Nephilia. “You guys should have them instead.”

“I couldn’t,” said Ren-Ren.

“Didn’t I say before? I was being somewhat sincere about all that. If something happens and I collapse, it’d be a big mistake for you guys not to be able to transform.”

Ren-Ren looked at Nephilia to see her gladly chomping into hers. Ren-Ren hesitantly brought the fruit to her mouth and bit in. No matter how many times she ate them, she never got tired of them. They were sweet. And tasty.

“So here’s the place, right?” Agri confirmed.

“Yes. I think so,” Ren-Ren replied.

“It doesn’t seem like she’s coming, though.”

“Well…” Once Ren-Ren was done eating her grayfruit, Nephilia, who’d been gazing up at the sky with a peaceful look on her face, suddenly turned sharply and placed her index finger to her lips. Obeying that finger, Ren-Ren put the conversation on pause and perked up her ears. She could hear the sound of leaves against leaves. Then footsteps. It was coming closer. It wasn’t just one person—no, it was one person, but the other sounds had to be from a number of four-legged animals. The insects stopped buzzing.

“She’s here,” Ren-Ren announced, and then without even enough time to blink, the person of the hour had arrived.

“I apologize for taking sooo long! I’m sooorryyy!” Pastel Mary leaped toward her almost like she was sliding to a base, and Ren-Ren caught her in a stance like a martial artist receiving a tackle. Mary buried her face in Ren-Ren’s chest. Feeling the heat of her breath, Ren-Ren automatically tried to peel off Mary, who squirmed, firmly attached to her with unexpected strength.

“Mary. Mary. Listen,” Ren-Ren said. “Let go for a moment.”

Mary muttered something incomprehensible and shoved her face into Ren-Ren’s chest. Ren-Ren turned to Nephilia for help. Though Nephilia was smirking the whole time, she did help, and with the strength of both magical girls, they somehow pulled the two girls apart.

“Mary, listen,” Ren-Ren began. “Will you hear what I have to say?”

“Ohhh, Ren-Ren. I’m sorry. It’s just that we were apart for so long. I was lonely. So I just…” Mary was embarrassed. She still wanted to squeeze her, but she took a step back anyway. But then she stumbled over a rock and started falling, only to be caught by the body of a sheep, sinking into its wool.

The love created by Ren-Ren’s magic was infinite in variety, depending on the person. Pastel Mary’s version was comparatively restrained. Ren-Ren decided that had to be because of her reserved and cautious personality.

“Mary,” Ren-Ren said. “Why did you take the grayfruit everyone picked?”

“You told me to go pick some grayfruit…,” Mary replied. “Was that bad?”

“No…”

Mary’s head was bowed apologetically as she examined Ren-Ren with upturned eyes. Ren-Ren had asked her to “pick the nearby grayfruit and come.” She’d only wanted Mary to gather grayfruit from the nearby forest, but Mary had misunderstood and taken it further, going so far as theft.

“You should’ve been more specific about your request,” Agri said with a sigh.

That had been Ren-Ren’s mistake. Agri didn’t know everything about Ren-Ren’s magic. Ren-Ren was the only one on this island who knew how people would wind up when they were pierced by her arrow and fell in love with her.

So Ren-Ren should have chosen her words more carefully.

Agri had thought they should gather grayfruit; Ren-Ren had also agreed that was the right idea. Agri had said they had to keep it a secret from the others, though. “Shouldn’t we work together with the others now and avoid conflict?” Ren-Ren had asked. “Just Ren-Ren and Nephilia might not be enough against this killer, and we don’t know where they are.” But her attempts to convince Agri had only made her even more heated, and Agri had argued her down.

The grayfruit they all shared were worthless. The grayfruit Agri monopolized would become more valuable down the line. Time would continue to pass, and once they exhausted their supply—if they only had the grayfruit that Agri had kept hidden—they would be able to profit off those. Agri would be able to get everything she’d yearned for but had never been able to acquire.

The look in Agri’s eyes seemed swept away in enthusiasm, but the words coming out of her mouth projected a strange chill. Even when Ren-Ren had tried to convince Agri that her own life could be in danger, she’d replied, “I don’t think there’ll be any more deaths.” Her statement was baseless but seemed convincing for some reason, and the words seeped into Ren-Ren’s heart. When Agri clasped both of her hands and said please, Ren-Ren couldn’t do anything but agree.

They’d had to go secretly gather grayfruit. And to that end, Pastel Mary, who could control lots of sheep, was suitable. What Agri had proposed was against law and ethics. But Ren-Ren wound up agreeing anyway. Knowing that Pastel Mary would be forced to go alone into the dangerous forest, Ren-Ren had agreed. She had circled around behind where Pastel Mary had been working in the main building, sneakily nocked an arrow, aimed, and loosed it. Ren-Ren’s arrows wouldn’t hurt her targets physically; it would just make them fall uncontrollably in love. Ren-Ren had made her request of Pastel Mary and then had surreptitiously kept watch on the entrance so that Pastel Mary could get out of the back gate. That was all Ren-Ren had done.

But even that small action had caused a serious incident. Ren-Ren failed to do her due diligence. She hadn’t considered adding detailed conditions to her request to Pastel Mary. So when Pastel Mary had secretly tried to gather lots of grayfruit, she’d started by carting away the grayfruit stored in the main building—because that was just what she had been ordered.

Agri had panicked. Ren-Ren had panicked, too. She didn’t know how Nephilia had felt about it, though.

Agri had played the emotional mage blowing her top, wailing and causing conflict, telling them about Nephilia’s magic and making them go to Maiya, just doing whatever she could to put off things, until when the deed had finally been exposed, the “enemy” had appeared. It seemed less like the timing had been good and more that it had been too good, but Agri had said, “Well, I guess that’s how it goes,” just nodding like it made sense to her somehow.

Though things hadn’t gone perfectly as planned, in the end, they’d gathered some fruit. Sheep with bags and boxes on their backs came following after Mary. It was quite a number.

“It was pretty valuable that they didn’t know your magic, huh, Ren-Ren,” Agri said. “Then it was worth creating a mood that would keep people from bringing up the idea to share our abilities.”

“That’s true,” Ren-Ren agreed.

“But it’s still not enough.” Agri made a little smile with the corners of her lips.

Ren-Ren swallowed. “Not enough…? You’re going to pick more?”

“Uh-huh. More is better. But maybe we should avoid using the sheep openly. Since everyone’s scattered all over the island, and they might get seen. It would be an issue if someone followed the sheep.”

“That’s too dangerous. Any more than this would be…”

“It’ll be fine. It’s not too dangerous…probably. I don’t expect our killer will want to cause any more problems—at least I didn’t get that impression after I saw that expression.” Agri cocked her head.

She was talking like she knew something. Could she be…the one who killed Maiya…? Ren-Ren thought, but then she remembered 7753’s goggles. Agri couldn’t be the culprit.

“Um, do you…know what’s happening?” Ren-Ren asked her.

“Oh, I’ve just been thinking about it looong and hard. Like, maybe this is what happened.”

Just what do you mean? Ren-Ren was about to ask when there was a poke from behind, making her reflexively arch backward. It was Nephilia. Is this the time to be doing something like that? Ren-Ren thought and turned back to see Nephilia looking up at the sky. Ren-Ren followed Nephilia’s gaze up. She wasn’t looking at the sky. It was atop a rock. With the hazy light of the moon behind it, something person-shaped was standing atop the rock.

“Chelsea! Has! Arrived! …Hey, can you hear me?!”

Ren-Ren knew that voice. And she also knew what she was after.

Ren-Ren ran her finger over a box and tapped on it twice. The finger that had poked her in the back tapped twice in response. Ren-Ren nodded, and she sensed Nephilia nodding back.

With a leap and a beat of her wings, Ren-Ren shot into the air, crossing over the rock and the person standing atop it to look down on her from above. Nephilia stood in front of Agri with her scythe at the ready, both of them backing slowly into the thicket. Mary seemed frightened, clumped up with her sheep like she was ready to run.

Ren-Ren said clearly in her mind that she would manage somehow. To Ren-Ren, that meant, in other words, to charm them by shooting them with her arrow. Dreamy Chelsea posed just like she had right before running into the forest and fixed her gaze on Ren-Ren.

The sheep Chelsea held by the base of its neck in her left hand was flailing. Her hand popped open to release it, and the sheep practically tumbled its way down the rock to flee.

So she followed the sheep here…

“Chelsea’s found you, villain! Give back May-May!”

Chelsea spoke and posed in a theatrical manner. It was like she was performing in a magical-girl show.

“We can’t return anything to you…” Ren-Ren flapped her wings a second time and used that movement to cover how she was nocking arrows behind her back. She nocked one, two, three arrows. “We just found Mary, too.”

Chelsea crouched down and slammed her right fist into the rock at her feet, sending cracks running along its surface as she buried her fist in the rock. The cracks spread. Once her hand was buried to the wrist, Chelsea pulled it out and stood straight with her fist still clenched, squeezing it in front of her face. It was trembling with the tension.

“Dreamy Chelsea…” She opened her right hand. In it lay brown rocks with twisted points. Right as Ren-Ren realized that Chelsea had grabbed some rock to crush it into star shapes, she somersaulted in midair, drew an arrow, and fired it in the same motion. The three arrows were aimed straight for Chelsea’s face, heart, and stomach, but none of them made it. Ren-Ren saw a flash, and then Chelsea was posing with all the arrows in her left hand, each arrow sandwiched individually between her fingers. “…has it handled!”

With a flap of her wings, Ren-Ren ascended while firing off more arrows. Her first went straight, the second was concealed in the shadow of the first, and the third she shot to be faster than the first two so that it would collide with the other arrows on its way and change their trajectory—but that third arrow never connected. Chelsea’s right toe sprang up to strike it aside, sending it spinning in the air to vanish behind her.

Chelsea lowered her raised leg, then cutely bent it backward. Bringing both hands to her mouth, she posed. “Chelsea won’t forgive you!”

Star-shaped stones flew from Chelsea’s right hand. Ren-Ren prepared to dodge, but the stars didn’t come toward her, instead drawing a strange zigzag path as they went around Chelsea.

Chelsea leaped into the air. Even then, she was posing dramatically. With a cute gesture, she used a star as a stepping-stone and bounded off it, ascending unimaginably fast for the way she was moving, making another star circle ahead of her to bounce off that next, and with a speed that belied her cuteness, she was right up in Ren-Ren’s face.

When Ren-Ren fired arrows in retaliation, a star repelled the first as Chelsea flashed yet another cute pose with the stick in her hand, which knocked away Ren-Ren’s curved shot. Then Chelsea theatrically raised her leg and brought it down.

Ah!

Ren-Ren made it by a hairbreadth. She lifted her right leg to block Chelsea’s incoming shin and was flung back in the opposite direction she’d flown in from. Ren-Ren slammed toward the ground.

That couldn’t be called a kick. Chelsea’s leg had just touched her in the course of moving her leg into that unnatural pose, but its strength and speed were incredible. Ren-Ren’s shin was screaming in pain. It felt like muscle had torn.

Ren-Ren put on the brakes. Even a magical girl would die if she hit the ground at this speed. Rolling the other way in midair, she was flapping her wings hard to slow herself down when something struck her in the back, and now she was definitely being slammed down to the ground. Chelsea was stomping on her from above. Even if Ren-Ren knew it was coming, she couldn’t evade it. That big flap before hitting the ground slowed her down a bit but didn’t stop her, and she rolled along the ground.

She took the fall properly, slowing the speed of her landing. Rolling along, even though she barely avoided the foot stomp that came while she was down, Chelsea’s next kick sent her flying upward, then another strike slammed her into a rock.

Ren-Ren coughed and clutched her chest, racked with pain as she fell to her knees. With a glance, she grasped the situation. Chelsea was facing her from a little over ten feet away, while Mary and her sheep looked on from farther away, frozen and trembling. She couldn’t see Agri and Nephilia. Ren-Ren was in some serious trouble, but considering how strong Chelsea was, she considered herself lucky she wasn’t dead.

Chelsea was still posing. She completely ignored efficiency in a fight, committing her effort entirely to cuteness and magical-girl-like movements. But despite not trying to fight properly, she was still too much for Ren-Ren. Even when prancing around ridiculously and prioritizing aesthetic, Chelsea was simply so much stronger.

Ren-Ren noticed the rocks circling around Chelsea were moving in the shape of a star. There probably wasn’t any purpose to that, either. It had to be because it looked nice.

This was crazy—Ren-Ren was crazy for fighting when there was no reason to, and Chelsea was crazy for striking her opponent like this was an extension of play. It was all crazy. Ren-Ren swallowed the blood pooling in her mouth.

Ren-Ren expected Chelsea to keep going, but she turned to Mary instead. “May-May! Don’t worry!”

Mary seemed confused for a moment, but her expression immediately turned to relief as she spread her arms to Chelsea, and then, pulling an arrow of Ren-Ren’s from her sleeve, she stabbed—or almost did, but Chelsea’s right fist moved through a pose to strike her hard in the side, and Mary passed out from the pain. She crumpled in the middle of her herd of sheep and could no longer be seen.

“Agh, geez!” Chelsea huffed. “Even making May-May do something like this! This is just—I’m really not gonna forgive you now!”

Chelsea had read every move of theirs thus far. Sneak attacks and trick attacks wouldn’t work. No matter how absurdly her dancing around was, if she won, that made it the right approach. That held true for more than just magical girls.

Holding her stomach and dragging her feet, Ren-Ren tried to circle around to the right side, but Chelsea jumped ahead of her, scattering the frozen herd of sheep with a kick—one that was elegant like a ballet dancer.

“Chelsea thought you were trying to take a weirdly long time. Heh-heh, Chelsea’s got it all figured out.”

The box that had been hidden by the herd of sheep was revealed. It was packed full of the grayfruit—spilling out over the sides from how many were inside—which were basically a lifeline for the magical girls right now. Ren-Ren watched in despair. Those supplies were their only advantage. With that exposed, the one way they had the upper hand over Chelsea was gone—or at least that was what Chelsea thought as she reached out to a fruit in the box. The fruit suddenly flew upward.

Nephilia, who had been hiding inside the box, sprang out and jumped on her. It was a pincer attack. Chelsea spread both arms wide, lifted one leg, raised herself up on her tiptoes, and spun as if she was dancing. The way the dreamy girl saw it, maybe she actually was dancing.

Chelsea blocked Nephilia’s scythe with her knee and knocked it aside with her hand. Nephilia lost her balance, Chelsea hooked her fingers into her opponent’s collar to fling her at Ren-Ren, who crouched down and bounced Nephilia up with her back as she went for Chelsea. Chelsea grabbed the arrow in Ren-Ren’s right hand to stop it and slapped the arrow in her left hand out of her grasp. Behind her, Ren-Ren heard the sound of a blade ripping through the air. That was Nephilia’s scythe—Nephilia had flung it while flying backward, and it skimmed over Ren-Ren’s wings only for Chelsea to casually lift one leg to kick it away. That same moment, Ren-Ren attacked with her final arrow, an arrowhead grasped in her tail, and swiped up from below Chelsea’s thighs—Chelsea did a backward somersault in the air to get away.

After three spins in the air, Chelsea landed on the edge of the box, then looked down at her feet. It was just a bit, but there was blood oozing from her toe. The arrowhead that had been fixed to the side of the box had left a wound you couldn’t even call a scrape. Nephilia had been the one to set the trap. She must have thought that Chelsea might carelessly touch the box and cut her hand. She couldn’t have expected Chelsea to have hopped onto it in such a pointlessly dramatic gesture, but even if it was unexpected, now they had won.

The look on Chelsea’s face gradually turned vacant and dazed. Though Mary was still groaning among her herd of sheep, she stood up and called out, “Stop this already, Chelsea.”

“Yeah, I’ll stop,” Chelsea answered instantly. She ran to Mary and helped her up. “Sorry for everything!”

Mary told her it was okay as her eyes shifted over to Ren-Ren, who nodded back and moved away from the two of them. Chelsea fidgeted as she continued to apologize to Mary. Her expressions of love seemed somewhat docile and not too bad.

That had been a close one. Chelsea was stronger than Ren-Ren had thought. She shouldn’t have assumed that Chelsea wouldn’t be anything much because she normally seemed so airheaded. After all, she’d been hired for the job, so they shouldn’t have underestimated her. Not only was it simplistic to assume she was just her employer’s mistress, but it was dangerous.

“Are you all right?” Agri asked Ren-Ren.

“Yes…somehow.” She tried to smile at Agri, who had popped her face out from the thicket, and Nephilia, who had gotten up, but pain ran through her side, making her right cheek twist up.

“Are you really okay?”

“I can still move.”

“Okay, then… But wow, your magic, Ren-Ren. It sure is amazing.”

“Thank you very much.”

“It’s amazing…but maybe a little inconvenient.”

“Well…yes.”

Mary reluctantly embraced Chelsea, who paid no mind to Mary’s discomfort over Chelsea gleefully rubbing her cheek against her.

Ren-Ren’s magic would make anyone pierced with her arrow fall in love. But only the first person would fall in love with Ren-Ren. The second person would fall in love with the first, and the third would fall in love with the second. And that would lead to an ongoing chain until eventually, it would get completely out of Ren-Ren’s control and run wild…which was something that had happened twice before.

“But if it’s just two people, it’ll be all right,” Ren-Ren said. “It can work.”

“Uh-huh. And the third?” Agri asked.

“That…well, we’ll manage somehow.”

“Good, good.”

Nephilia snickered. Agri nodded with satisfaction and waved her right hand to indicate ahead. “All right, let’s get out of here. We made a lot of noise, so we might get some uninvited guests.”

“You mean…the enemy,” Ren-Ren said.

“No, not the enemy. I don’t even know in the first place if there is an… Well, whatever. Anyway, let’s move. C’mon.”

Nephilia followed Agri, and Ren-Ren sent Mary a signal with her eyes. Mary’s sheep gathered around Chelsea, who wouldn’t leave Mary, and practically carried her away as they all walked off.

The insects must have decided the commotion was over for the moment, as a second later, they began hesitantly buzzing.